


The Secret

by dismiss_your_fearsx



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, I can't believe Ross isn't an Aries but ok, Post S4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 04:14:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17338385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dismiss_your_fearsx/pseuds/dismiss_your_fearsx
Summary: Demelza has a terrible pokerface and Ross is suspicious.





	The Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends! I don't usually write Romelza fics, so I'd love to know what you all think. Much love xo

The glow of the morning winter light poured through the large parlour-window of Nampara, where Demelza Poldark bustled about, taking a rag and running it over the surfaces, smiling softly to herself. 

“Playing the kitchenmaid today, are we?” Ross teased from the table, placing another spoonful of honey-glazed porridge into his mouth to suppress his laughter at his wife’s expression. 

Demelza cocked her eyebrow at him and failed to contain a smirk. “You are lucky I d’ not ask Prudie to lace your porridge with poison, Captain Poldark,” came her reply, to which she and Ross both laughed. 

Ross took another mouthful and studied some figures from the mine for a small while, before becoming distracted by Demelza’s lilting voice as she hummed softly. It was a tune that reminded Ross of his childhood, though he could not now think why. “You are in unusually high spirits,” he observed with suspicion, his lips curving into an amused smile as she continued to hum and go about her dusting. “What is the occasion?” 

The rag continued to swipe over the windowsill, while Demelza thought of a suitable excuse, so as not to spoil the surprise. “Oh, er, no occasion. Prudie just did a job, tha’s all.” 

A hum from the table seemed to Demelza to signal her husband's agreement, but she was apparently mistaken. “It is a good thing you’ve never been tried under Reverend Halse’s scrutinising gaze,” he commented, “such poor lying skills would see you swing from the gallows!” 

Demelza tried to join in with Ross’ laughter but redness slowly crept up her neck and nerves began to swirl icily in her stomach. Ross was right; she was a terrible liar. If he kept on at her, she knew she would spill the secret, and Caroline would surely kill her. Demelza and Caroline, along with Dwight, had been planning Ross’ surprise birthday party for upward of a month and almost everything was already prepared for tonight. It had been Caroline’s idea to hold the party a day in advance of Ross’ actual 40th birthday so that it would indeed be a surprise. Demelza planned on baking his mother’s spiced apple cake just as soon as he left for the mine, and was feeling very pleased that such an idea had popped into her head, as she remembered Ross telling her in her days as a kitchen maid that it was his favourite. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said with forced lightness, putting more effort than necessary into plumping the pillows. “I be telling no lies, Ross.” 

“No?” He asked rhetorically, a boyish smirk on his face, enjoying how flustered Demelza was becoming. 

“No,” she answered meekly fixing the thick blanket which hung over the back of the bench.

The chair screeched against the wooden floor as Ross quickly stood up and crossed the room. He stood in front of her, his tall figure topping her own by four inches. He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes in scrutiny, though the corners of his mouth twitched playfully. “Tell me your secret, Demelza,” he ordered, laughing as her eyes darted about the room for an escape route. When met by silence, Ross pounced, grasping Demelza’s sides and tickling them. “Tell me!”

Demelza squealed, the high pitch noise rousing an ancient Garrick from his sleep, who barked in discontentment at having been disturbed. Ross relentlessly continued his assault, and Demelza shrieked and laughed as she attempted to wriggle free.

“Ross, stop!” She cried breathlessly, tears of laughter beginning to form at the corner of her eyes. “You’ll wake the children!” she argued in a hiss, still unable to wriggle free from her husband’s grasp. 

Ross’ laugh bounced off the walls of the house and echoed throughout. “You know as well as I that our children could sleep through the end of the world! But I see my interrogation efforts have failed and so I shall set you free,” he mused, doing just that. 

Demelza spun round to face him, clutching her sides and still chuckling slightly. She then brought a hand up to his neckcloth and began to re-do it, tutting at its carelessly tied knot. She swore Ross did this on purpose, either to annoy her or to simply feel her hands on him, and she was right in her assumption.  
As though reading her mind, Ross grinned, and Demelza reprimanded him with a light tap on his chest as she tied the fabric into a perfect Gordian knot. “A man of nearly forty years and yet still you cannot neatly fix your neckcloth,” she teased, her eyes dancing with mirth. 

Ross chuckled and drew his wife closer to him by her waist. “I think my valiant efforts ought to be rewarded though,” he inferred, his hands remaining firmly in their place. 

“Yes, Ross,” hummed Demelza, feigning ignorance. “Is there something I can fetch you?”

“Oh, I already have something in mind,” he assured her, his gaze lowering to her mouth. 

“I doubt not that you do,” Demelza said evenly despite the frantic beating of her heart. 

He pulled her closer so that no light remained between them. “Allow me to enlighten you,” Ross breathed before taking her face in his hands and kissing her deeply. Demelza responded eagerly, her hand moving to the nape of his neck. His hand slowly trailed down the length of her back to rest on her bottom, and she smiled against his mouth.  
“Be off with you!” Demelza laughed, gently pushing him away. “Out,” she ordered, pointing towards the door, as though dismissing Garrick. “Zacky will be waitin’!”

Taking several steps back to grab his mine documents, Ross stopped short of the table, turned and shot a glance at his wife. “I already look forward to coming home,” he purred with a smirk, before taking his things from the table and running for his horse. 

Demelza stood alone in the parlour, smiling at his figure as he quickly hurried out of the house. “That damned man,” she murmured fondly to herself as she picked up his empty porridge bowl, “never do anythin’ the easy way! I daresay he’d be late for his own burying!” She smirked and shook her head at the thought, quickly examining the flowers on the table to ensure they were still presentable enough to be seen by other company. Her smile then softened, and she said aloud: "But everything that damned man has done lately has been for my benefit - and the children. So I 'spose I ought not to be too hard on him." She sighed, and made her way into the kitchen in search of her apron - there was a cake to be made.


End file.
